


Into the Fire

by curseworm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Bois Inc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot are twins, Dave | Technoblade is the older twin, Dave | Technoblade-centric, Enderman Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Fanart, Fear of Death, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Guilt, Happy Ending, Human vs Piglin war, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, More tags to be added, Mourning, Near Death Experiences, Permadeath/Hardcore, Piglin Technoblade, Piglin!Techno, Realistic Minecraft, Reincarnation, Sad Dave | Technoblade, Stabbing, Swearing, Techno angst, Temporary Character Death, War, Worldbuilding, piglin culture go brrrrr, piglin techno, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, the species hate each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseworm/pseuds/curseworm
Summary: It should have been an ordinary skirmish.It should have been easy. Just another bastion, just another fight. Techno had been certain it would be easy. The four of them — Techno, Wilbur, Philza and also Tommy these days — were leading a small company on a small mission: a bastion, near the nether portal hub, that the piglins were trying to reinhabit.Just a handful of piglins. Easy enough to take care of.They’d done it a hundred times before.——In which Techno dies and is reincarnated as a piglin.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 243
Kudos: 1694





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Survivor and His Bloodthirsty Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795296) by [CakeCleaner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CakeCleaner/pseuds/CakeCleaner). 



> Big thanks to [VenetaPsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenetaPsi/pseuds/VenetaPsi) and [mgrnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mgrnn) for helping with the planning process of this!!

It should have been an ordinary skirmish.

It should have been easy. Just another bastion, just another fight. Techno had been certain it would be easy. The four of them — Techno, Wilbur, Philza and also Tommy these days — were leading a small company on a small mission: a bastion, near the nether portal hub, that the piglins were trying to reinhabit.

Just a handful of piglins. Easy enough to take care of.

They’d done it a hundred times before.

-o-O-o-

Tommy shuffled his feet, his hand clenching anxiously around the sword sheathed at his hip as he tried and failed to conceal his nervousness. His usual mask of bravado and arrogance was cracking around the edges, leaving his true unease on display. 

This was the first time he was actually going to be leading an expedition to the nether — given, it was going to be alongside his family, but it was still more responsibility than he was used to, still made him nervous thinking about it.

Techno stood with a sigh and made his way over to his brother. “Tommy,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve gone over this a thousand times. You’ve trained for this. You’ll be fine.”

Tommy scoffed slightly, pushing Techno’s hand off with a scowl. “You don’t have to talk to me like that. I’m not fucking fragile. I _know_ I’ll be fine. I’m a better fighter than any of those piglins could ever hope to be! I’ll kill them all!”

Techno regarded his brother sceptically for a moment before cracking a small grin. “Well, when you inevitably fuck yourself over I’ll be there to save you, princess.”

“Hey!” Tommy shouted. “I take offence to that! If anything, _you’re_ gonna be the one I save!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’ll prove it to you! Just watch me!”

Techno barked a laugh. “I’m sure you will, Tommy. I’m sure you will.” 

The communicator on his belt let out a little buzz, and a quick check told him it was a message from Phil. Techno turned from Tommy and started making his way to the door. “Preparations are ready,” he called over his shoulder. “Phil wants us.”

“Right,” Tommy said, standing and following Techno. “Let’s go get these fuckers.”

-o-

The materials they needed for the TNT dupers were all loaded into shulker boxes and in Philza’s inventory. The plan was simple — Techno, Tommy and Wilbur would lead the charge into the bastion in order to distract the piglins and give Phil time to build the duper. Then, at a signal, they’d flee and Phil would start dropping the bombs, destroying the bastion and hopefully killing all the piglins inside.

The bastion had been the first area they’d driven the piglins out of, right at the start of the war. It was well within viewing distance of the nether portal hub, and had stood abandoned since the original retreat. But now the piglins were making an effort to reinhabit it — something that, if they succeeded, would be disastrous for the human’s war effort. So this time, they weren’t going to leave the structure standing.

Techno went through the portal first, gritting his teeth as the familiar but no less uncomfortable sensation of teleporting through dimensions swept over him. His head spun, his stomach churned, his blood boiled, all in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever before it faded just as quickly.

Stepping into the sweltering heat of the nether was never a pleasant experience, and Techno found himself silently thanking the fact that his armour had enchantments that dampened the extreme temperatures of the hell-like dimension. The portal hub, as always, had guards lining each of the hallways that branched off from it, and Techno nodded respectfully to them as they all stood to attention.

Tommy, Wilbur and Philza came out of the portal next, quickly followed by the rest of their men. Everyone knew their places, their roles, so there was little conversation as they marched down the corridor, towards the bastion.

Phil split off at the exit, making his way to the overhang with a small squad of men to start building. Techno, with Wilbur and Tommy at his sides, led the rest of the company down the cliffside. They crept across the netherrack plain, keeping low to the ground and out of the sight of the piglin guards. If they could get to the bastion undetected, it would make everything so much easier.

Things went wrong almost immediately.

-o-

Techno’s head whipped around as he heard a cry of alarm, and his eyes widened at the sight of a group of piglins at the back of their company. The men back there were already beginning to engage in combat, the clangs and shouts of battle echoing over the rocky wasteland. He drew his sword, the netherite blade shimmering as he began running towards the conflict.

But a snorting behind him made him turn back to see more piglins approaching from the bastion. They were trapped now, enemies approaching them from the front and the back, a netherrack cliff and lava lake cutting them off at the sides.

An ambush. This was a setup.

“Wilbur,” Techno said, keeping his voice level even as the piglins closed in on them and dregs of panic welled up in his chest. “Go to the rear, go back them up. Tommy and I will hold these ones off. We only need to fight until Phil’s ready.”

Wilbur nodded, his lips thin, his face pale, and started towards the back. The _‘If Phil hasn’t already been attacked,’_ went unsaid.

Techno returned his attention to the oncoming enemies, just in time to parry a blow aimed at his head. The piglin was a brute, with an axe and a half-suit of gold armour. It quickly fell to Techno’s blade.

He grinned — a wild, bloodthirsty expression — and whirled around, cleanly decapitating the next monster, his sharpened sword slicing easily through flesh and bone and sending its head sailing through the air. Techno glanced around, taking quick stock of the battle.

The piglins seemed to be coming in an endless stream, more and more joining the fight every second — even now, Techno could see more of them emerging from the depths of the bastion. Bodies already littered the netherrack, the blood almost invisible against the crimson rock.

Grunts and clangs and screams of pain surrounded him as Techno gritted his teeth and threw himself back into the fray, his weapon a deadly blur as he swung it with precise blows at his monstrous enemies. His eyes widened as a piglin wielding an enchanted netherite sword and suited in diamond armour charged at him. He ducked under one wild strike, parried the next, and then stabbed his sword through a gap in its armour. It fell back with a squeal. 

For that piglin to have the tools it had… they must have been looting human corpses, then. Techno was honestly surprised it hadn’t happened earlier. A huge part of the human’s power over piglins was the fact that their weapons and armour were vastly superior to the piglins’, but it seemed that that gap may be closing.

Techno glanced around wildly at the sound of a loud, recognisable cry. His eyes landed on Tommy just as a netherite flail whipped around and slammed into his brother’s arm, sending his sword flying from his hand and cracking his forearm backwards. 

Icy dread filled Techno’s heart as Tommy let out a blood-curdling scream, stumbling back, curling instinctively into his broken arm. He was moving before he even registered it, scrambling around fallen bodies and battling forces in his haste to get to his injured brother.

Adrenaline coursed through his system as the piglin lifted its flail, intent on striking Tommy again, this time with what would be a killing blow. His brother was about to die. He wasn’t going to make it in time. His little brother was about to die in front of his eyes and he wasn’t going to _fucking_ make it in time. His words from earlier echoed in his ears. _'When you inevitably fuck yourself over I’ll be there to save you,'_ he'd said. But he wasn't. He wasn't, and it was going to be the reason Tommy died.

“TOMMY!” Techno screamed, the sound torn unconsciously from his throat as he pushed himself harder, harder than he ever had before.

The piglin paused slightly, its attention drawn by his cry. Tommy looked up too, his wide, terrified, pain-filled eyes settling on Techno, softening slightly in relief as he saw his brother charging towards him.

The piglin’s distraction had been momentary, but it was all Techno had needed. He leapt in front of Tommy, stance protective, sword brandished, ready to fight the piglin off— 

Only for the flail to whip forward, the chain wrapping around his blade and, with a pull from its wielder, tearing it from his grasp.

Techno’s heart stuttered to a stop, and he knew, even as he reached for the dagger sheathed at his hip, that he was fucked. He could do nothing but watch as the flail swung around for the third time. If he moved, it would strike Tommy, and he didn’t have the time nor the means to parry the blow. 

As the spiked ball cracked into Techno’s chest, causing his armour and ribcage to cave inwards and white-hot pain to tear through his body, he heard a scream. Oddly enough, it wasn’t his own.

 _Oh,_ he realised dazedly. _It’s Tommy. I hope he’s ok._

He was on the ground, now. His mask was gone. The rock was sticky with blood. Some of it might’ve been his own. 

It was hard to breathe.

“TECHNO!” he heard Tommy shriek, his voice wracked with anguish and guilt and pain. 

Tommy needed to run. He needed to get away from here. The piglin was still there, and Phil’s TNT would be ready soon.

Techno opened his mouth to say so, but he couldn’t find the breath he needed to speak. All that came out was a dribble of blood.

Someone was kneeling next to him. They were shaking him. “Techno, oh my god. You need to get up. C’mon, you need to get up. We need to get away.” They were crying.

Techno didn’t need to get away. Tommy needed to get away. He needed to run.

A shadow loomed over him, over Tommy. The piglin, its flail gone, wielding a sword instead. Once again, Techno tried to cry out, but his chest was too heavy. He couldn’t speak. He couldn't breathe.

A tall figure barrelled into the piglin, sending it stumbling away. Techno almost smiled. He’d recognise that flop of brown hair anywhere. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur shouted, grabbing Tommy by the shoulder and hauling him away from Techno’s prone form. “Tommy, we’ve got to go. Phil’s ready. There’s a path away. Tommy, we need to _go_!”

Wilbur always had been the sensible one.

“NO!” Tommy screamed, struggling desperately to get away from Wilbur’s grip, pushing uselessly with his unbroken arm. “WE CAN’T LEAVE HIM HERE! GET OFF ME! LET ME GO!”

Techno lifted a hand shakily, making a slight shooing motion. They needed to go. He would be fine on his own.

“WILBUR, FUCK OFF! LET ME GO!”

“Tommy, stop! Stop it! We need to get away!” 

Oh. Wilbur was crying as well.

There was really no reason to be so upset, Techno decided. He’d give them a piece of his mind if he could. Their safety was far more important than his own.

Techno rolled his head back slightly as something stepped next to him. The piglin. Oh, shit. He tried to sit up, to grab his weapon and fight it off, but agony lanced through his chest and his vision whited-out and he tried to scream but his lungs had been crushed and he couldn't shout and he couldn't move and he couldn't do _anything_ and oh god, he was about to _die_.

And the piglin just stood there, regarding him, something resembling pity in its pale, dead eyes. But that didn’t make sense. Piglins were _things_ , not beings. They didn’t feel. They were monsters. That’s what Techno had always been taught.

But as it crouched by him and tipped his head up slightly. As it reached down, blade in hand, and slit his throat. As the world darkened around him and his pain faded and Tommy’s screams echoed in his ears.

Techno could’ve sworn it whispered an apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s 3:30am and I just finished writing this and haven't edited it let’s go
> 
> LOOK AT THIS [FANART](https://twitter.com/_megaronii_/status/1325205789917675520?s=20) BY MEGARONII ON TWITTER! GO FOLLOW HER PELASE!!


	2. Chapter Two

As Wilbur pulled Tommy away, through the dusty, bloody battlefield, back to their rendezvous, the teen didn’t stop screaming. He’d long since given up trying to break free from Wilbur’s grip on his shoulder, but that didn’t stop the shouts of protest and denial that tore themselves from his raw throat.

Their retreat had been hastily made in the panic and disorder in the piglin ranks that had followed the bombs dropping. Now, the deafening explosions of the TNT had faded, leaving behind nothing but ringing ears and the smouldering remnants of the once-proud bastion. 

One of Tommy’s hands clutched Techno’s mask in a white-knuckled grip, and the other arm — bloody and broken — hung limply at his side. Tommy could hardly feel the pain that lanced through the fractured bone.

Techno couldn’t be dead. Techno _couldn’t_ be dead. Not his brother, the warrior, the best fighter he’d ever known. He only needed a moment to recuperate, and then he’d surge up from the netherrack ground, fight off the piglins with ease, and come running back to them. He’d laugh at his family’s worry, tease Tommy for the tears that welled in his eyes and poured down his face.

They’d laugh with him.

But Tommy knew it wasn’t true.

He knew from the moment he’d heard the sound, the sound that he  _ couldn’t _ get out of his head, of the flail impacting Techno’s armour, that his brother was gone. The sickening  _ crack  _ that echoed through his head, that rang through his memories.

He’d never be able to forget the way the flail had slammed down, down into Techno’s chest, sending him flying to the ground where he’d just  _ stayed _ , lying there limply, his breastplate collapsed, caved in, crushing into his torso. He’d never be able to forget the sound of Techno’s gasping, gurgling breaths as he tried and failed to breathe through broken lungs, barely able to be heard over the cacophony of the battle that had raged around them. He’d never be able to forget this day.

Tommy felt the party begin to slow and lifted his head from where it had been dropped against Wilbur’s shoulder. Before them, silhouetted by the fiery glow of lava, stood a small group of soldiers. At the head stood a figure wearing a shimmering elytra.

Philza.

The man raised a fist sharply — their sign of victory, of success. His face was stretched into a wide, proud smile, and he was ready to celebrate yet another conquest, yet another battle won. After all, they’d completed their mission, blown the bastion up, driven the piglins out.

But the joyous expression quickly slipped off his face as his victorious gesture wasn’t reciprocated, as he registered the party’s sombre air.

Phil leapt from the ledge he stood on and glided down to them, all battered and bruised and defeated. He caught Tommy as he collapsed from where he’d been leaning against Wilbur.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern and fear and a hint of desperation. Tommy buried his head into his father’s shoulder, who instinctively responded by running a gentle, reassuring hand down his back. Phil glanced around the group, his eyes widening as he realised who was missing. His voice was hushed, full of dread, as he asked, “Where’s Techno?”

“He’s gone,” Wilbur whispered, tears cascading down his cheeks. “A piglin, it– it got him.”

Tommy felt Phil stiffen at the news, felt his own throat tighten as the horrific truth was stated aloud. 

“What? No, no, no he can’t be. He can’t be.” Phil held Tommy tightly as he fell to his knees, shaking his head. “He _can’t_ be.” His voice broke mid-way through the denial. He sounded exactly like Tommy felt. Like the world had dropped from beneath his feet, like it had collapsed, shattered, crumbled.

Tommy tried to swallow, tried to say  _ something _ , to take the blame, to apologise, to make some meaningless attempt at comfort, but his throat felt heavy, gummy, as though it had been glued shut. 

Wilbur shut his eyes tightly. His shoulders trembled. “I- I– we couldn’t—” he took a shuddering breath, let out a shaky sob, and didn’t even try to finish his sentence.

“Sir,” one of the soldiers said quietly, addressing Phil. Her voice was tight with regret, sorrow and grief. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s not safe out here. We’ve got to continue our retreat.”

Phil’s arms tightened around Tommy momentarily before he relaxed his grip and stood. “Uhm, y- yeah. Thank you, Captain,” he said, lifting an arm to wipe it across his face, concealing his emotions behind a dismally transparent mask of confidence and leadership. “The portal hub is nearby. We just need to keep going,” he gestured towards the ledge he’d been standing on, “in that direction. Once we get back to the overworld we can– we only need to—” Phil cut himself off, not even knowing how to finish that thought. No one needed him to clarify. “Let’s go,” he finished dejectedly.

The captain — Tommy thought he recognised her but wasn’t sure of her name — stepped forward and knelt in front of him. “We need to go, my prince,” she said gently, holding out a gauntleted hand.

Tommy nodded jerkily and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The party, with Phil at the helm and Wilbur by his side, had already begun moving towards the portal hub, so he sucked in a breath, held it for a moment, and took a trembling step forward.

His legs buckled underneath him.

The captain caught Tommy’s arm — the one still holding Techno’s mask, slung it over her shoulders, and helped him trudge along at the back of the company. She didn’t even mention his stumble, something he was thankful for.

The guards stationed at the nether portal hub seemed to pick up on the miasma of despair that hung over the weary party, and as such they wordlessly stepped aside to allow passage back to the overworld, with none of the chatter or fanfare that would normally accompany a victorious return from the nether.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as he staggered through the portal. He’d never been great at dealing with the nausea that came with portal hopping, but at a time like this it felt even worse, like the dizzying sensation had been magnified tenfold.

He let out a dry, hacking cough as the icy Antarctic air bit at his throat and lungs. He opened his mouth to try and thank the captain but found he still couldn’t choke out any words.

So instead, he silently ducked out from under her arm and leaned heavily against the portal frame, clenching his eyes shut and resting his head against the obsidian. He only looked up when a warm hand was placed on his shoulder. It was Phil.

“Thank you, Puffy,” Phil said, his voice hoarse. “You are dismissed.”

The captain — Puffy, apparently — nodded in acknowledgment, muttered a quiet “yes, your majesty,” before turning and exiting the room.

Tommy tensed as Phil wrapped his arms around him.

“We’ll get through this, Tommy,” Phil said, his voice thick with emotions and unshed tears. “It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to cry. But we will get through this.”

“It’s not.” It came out as little but a whisper, the first words he’d spoken since it had happened. Tommy shook his head vigorously, pulling sharply back from the embrace. His voice rose as he continued speaking, “It’s not okay, it’s  _ not _ . It won’t– we can't– Techno didn’t—” He cut himself off with a hiccuping sob, staggering away from Phil, continuing to shake his head.

He fled from the room before Phil could respond.

He ran past the company of soldiers, ignored their burning,  _ pitying  _ gazes, shoved off the concerned hand that was rested on his shoulder, that tried to stop him, to hold him back.

“Tommy, wait!” He heard someone shout. He didn’t stop.

His lungs burned as he ran, his body, still bruised from the battle, screaming in protest. He didn’t stop.

He should get medical treatment, get care for his broken arm and the numerous wounds that littered his skin. He didn’t care. He didn’t stop.

Tommy pushed his way blindly into the room his legs had led him to, his vision too blurred by tears, he himself too uncaring, to know where he was.

(He knew, though. He knew whose room he was in. He knew from the shimmering weapons and armour that hung on the wall, gathered from hours and days of mindless grinding. He knew from the books, on war and on potato farming, that lined the bookshelves and lay scattered around the room. 

He tried not to think about it.)

Tommy collapsed against the wall, sank down until he was curled into a ball, his legs tucked tightly up to his chest. He stared down at Techno’s mask, still clutched in his hands.

_ Techno leaping in front of him, the relief and safety Tommy had felt at the protection his brother offered. _

He buried his head in his knees, tangled his fingers into his hair, pulled harshly at the blond locks.

_ The heart-stopping horror of watching the flail whistle through the air, flying closer, closer to Techno. _

Tommy grit his teeth, clenched his eyes shut, stubbornly ignored the burning at the back of his eyes and throat.

_ The sickening crack of the weapon impacting his brother’s chest. _

Tears welled past his closed eyelids, dripped down his cheeks, splashed onto the floor below.

_ It’s your fault. It’s all your fault. _

Tommy wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it stupid to bring the entire royal family onto the battlefield? yes. but they're stupid, so it makes sense


	3. Chapter Three

It was dark.

It was dark, it was silent, it was empty.

It was _terrifying_

The darkness seemed to writhe around him, growing closer and closer and pooling into all his senses, strangling, suffocating, drowning him in its choking embrace. He was nothing but a bodiless consciousness drifting through a vast expanse of nothing, unable to do anything, to shout, to scream, to call for help. 

Was this the afterlife? Was this void going to be Techno’s existence for the rest of eternity? The prospect horrified him, brought rise to a dread like none he’d ever felt before. At least in death, there had been some sensation. It hadn’t been pleasant, but at least he’d been able to feel _something_. Here, there was nothing. 

Here, he was alone.

Techno flinched back as the silence was broken by a deafening shatter, like glass, and then something that sounded like a great machine powering down. The pitch lowered and lowered and even when it was too low to hear, he could feel it vibrating in his ears, his teeth, his bones, all in a body that hadn’t existed a few moments ago. The shaking grew stronger and stronger until, all of a sudden—

Techno blinked.

He shouldn’t have been able to blink. He was dead.

But he blinked all the same, and he sat up, and he looked around. His head throbbed terribly and his body ached all over, but the pain told him he was alive, and really, he was quite thankful for that. He lifted a hand to his chest and felt around, marvelling at the fact that he _had_ a body and the ability to feel, that his ribcage was whole and not caved in, that he could actually breathe, and that, other than his rather superficial pains, he was _fine_.

It made no sense.

The battle and its aftermath hadn’t been a dream. It couldn’t have been a dream, it had been too real. He had died. His chest had been crushed and he couldn’t breathe and then his throat had been slit and he had died. And then… and then there had been absolute nothingness. Techno shuddered. Best not to think of that, really. 

He’d been okay with dying, though, because his family had gotten away. Tommy, Wilbur and Philza were all alive. He’d taken their place. But now he wasn’t dead either. Or maybe he was. Was this hell?

Techno scanned his surroundings. No, not quite. He was in the nether, a small cave of netherrack, the glow of lava visible from the entrance. More proof that he hadn’t been dreaming, then. He supposed the nether could be called hell, but he didn’t think it was where dead people went. Unless the nether _was_ the afterlife, and this was all some deep secret of the universe he’d never known about. He sincerely doubted that.

Techno took a deep breath, allowing himself to ponder over his situation. He never would have thought he’d _like_ breathing in the scorching air of the nether, but here he was, savouring each inhale of the ashy, smoky air, letting each exhale out slowly and silently marvelling over the fact that he was actually able to _do_ that.

Dying really made you appreciate the little things, huh?

He wasn’t sure why he felt so calm. It made sense, he supposed. There wouldn’t be much point in panicking, so why bother? Of course, not panicking was something easier said than done, and in situations like these, it was often hard to remain sensible. But Techno was finding it surprisingly easy to do. He felt a bit numb. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

Techno clambered to his feet, leaning heavily against the block he’d woken up next to, but not really paying attention to it. Not until he gripped the top of it and felt his right hand slip through what felt like a nether portal. The sensation of teleporting was strange enough when he expected it and it was dispersed over his whole body, but to have it come, entirely as a surprise and concentrated on one extremity, sent him reeling. Techno whirled away from the block with a curse, cradling his hand close to his chest, glaring at the offending object. 

He’d never seen anything like it. It was coated by a shell of obsidian; the surface marred only by glowing cracks of purple that ran through it and created a texture almost identical to the crying obsidian of ruined portals. Embedded in each side was 3/4 of a circle of light that shone with a dim yellowish hue, and nestled on top was what looked like a mini nether portal, the swirling purple gateway accompanied by its characteristic vworps and whooshes — likely what his hand had fallen into.

Speaking of… Techno held out his hand, looked down at it, and froze. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, then opened them again. His hand remained unchanged. _What the fuck?_

Techno glanced at his other hand and saw, to his mounting horror, that it was the same. Confusion and fear began to burn away the cold numbness he’d felt as he stared down at his own inhuman hands.

The pinkish-orange skin was coarse and rough to the touch and grew steadily darker as it travelled down his hand until it met his… fingernails? Past his proximal knuckle, the entirety of his fingers were encased in a shell of shiny black keratin, giving them the appearance of hooves — though Techno found, when he flexed his hands, that the joints weren’t at all hampered by the hardened material. It was weird and it was wrong and he hated it.

Because they weren’t human hands. His hands weren’t human hands. They were hands that should, by all rights, exist only on the arms of a piglin. Techno didn’t even look down at the rest of his body, didn’t want to see what he knew would be there. Panic bubbled up in his throat as he staggered backwards, as though he could somehow distance himself from _himself_.

What the fuck. What the _fuck_.

Techno scrambled across the cave, towards the entrance, needing something, _anything_ , to distract himself from the horrific reality of his situation.

He didn’t even spare a moment to scan his surroundings, instead stumbling forward to a rocky barrier and leaning against it, fighting back nausea as he stared down at the lava lake that stretched out below him.

Piglins were an anathema to him, the personification of everything he loathed and hated. His entire life had been spent locked in a war with the monstrous race... and now he _was_ one. It made no sense. It made no sense and he hated it, hated _himself_.

A quiet curse sounded behind him and he whirled around to see that the cliffside his little cavern had been embedded in was dotted evenly with entranceways to other caves. From one of them emerged a piglin, muttering angrily to itself. Burn scars covered the side of its face, which was twisted into an annoyed scowl.

Techno stepped away nervously, instinctively reaching for a sword he knew wasn’t there. The piglin’s eyes landed on him and he tensed, his fight-or-flight reflexes kicking into overdrive. It didn’t have a weapon either, surely it would be easy enough to fight it off, to overpower it and then flee quickly before the body was found.

The piglin opened its mouth, to shout for help, to call reinforcements, to let out a battle cry, and Techno readied himself for the fight he was sure to come. But all the piglin did was sigh and say, “You too, huh?” 

Techno blinked. He had understood that. He’d understood the snorts and snarls the piglin had spoken in. What?

“Those damn humans. I really thought we had them that time, y’know? That ambush was genius. Wish I could think of something like that. But then they dropped fuckin’ bombs on us,” the piglin gingerly touched the burnt side of its face. “I’m on my last cycle now. Guess there’s no more fighting for me.”

Techno was speechless, his eyes wide as he stared at the piglin that was _speaking_ to him. Speaking _civilly_ to him. Like he was an ally, a friend. What sort of fever dream was this?

Techno shook his head in disbelief, backing away from the piglin. He couldn’t deal with this. Not now. Not _ever_ . He turned tail and ran, ignoring the surprised shout of the piglin, ignoring the way his _hooves_ clacked against the ground, the way his breaths puffed through his _tusked_ mouth.

The netherrack corridor Techno was running through was rocky and roughly hewn, and he struggled to keep his footing on the uneven ground. To his right was a lava lake, blocked off only by a rough barrier which rose to his abdomen. To his left was the cliffside with the caverns, each one housing a copy of the block Techno had woken next to. Embedded over the mouth of each cave was a small, unique symbol. Techno's had had a crown.

Techno found himself dodging around other piglins that were emerging from their own caves. As he sprinted past them, earning himself more than a few confused glances, he caught snippets of conversations. ‘Bombs’ was a phrase he heard a lot, as well as ‘ambush’ and ‘Blood God.’ He didn’t care enough to wonder over what they meant, didn’t care to wonder over much other than how he was going to get out of this accursed place. 

He reached an intersection and slowed to a halt, glancing around quickly. To his left, the rough netherrack turned into polished blackstone and another corridor stretched out. Techno could see multiple other hallways and rooms branching off from it. Piglins, larger, stronger, and actually armed and armoured, were also milling around. It wasn’t a very appealing option, so instead, Techno continued forward, exiting the bastion and stepping into a soul sand valley.

He set his sight on the warped forest he could make out ahead of him and began his trek across the valley, scowling as his feet sunk into the sticky ground. He really hated soul sand. 

Techno didn’t allow himself to think about his situation. He _couldn’t_ allow himself to think about his situation. He needed to stay calm and plan out his next steps, and thinking about the situation he was in was exactly how _not_ to do that. He just needed to find somewhere safe and secluded — a cave, perhaps — where he could recuperate, gather his thoughts and work out how to get out of what life had thrown him into.

As Techno stepped from the soul sand valley to the warped forest, he took a moment to wipe his feet against the nylium and clean them of the adhesive sand that clung to them. He found himself relaxing slightly as he made his way into the depths of the cyan undergrowth. As much as he hated the nether, there was something about warped forests he’d always liked. 

Each time he passed a group of roaming piglins — rare in this biome, but still present — he instinctively tensed, holding his breath and reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, sure that _this_ would be the time they saw through his piglin skin, recognised him for the imposter he was. But each time he found himself exhaling in relief as the piglins paid him no heed, occasionally glancing at him disinterestedly but ultimately continuing with whatever they’d been doing. 

It was odd, getting reactions like that from _piglins_ of all things, but at the moment it was something he was thankful for.

Everything in the forest seemed larger than usual. The huge fungi towered over him in a way he was unused to, the foliage came up to his calves rather than his ankles, and even the piglins, from the distance he saw them from, seemed taller than he remembered them being. But Techno quickly shrugged it off. He had more important things to worry about.

Like finding somewhere safe enough to have a mental breakdown.

His attention was caught by a small crack in a netherrack cliff face, just barely visible behind the bough of a huge fungus. Techno glanced around and, upon seeing that there was nothing nearby, made his way towards what he assumed was a cave.

He pushed aside the cyan vegetation to reveal that it was indeed an entrance to a cave. The interior was dark, and he could barely make out anything within it. But it held a promise of shelter and seemed like the perfect spot to rest and come to terms with what he’d been pointedly ignoring.

Techno’s hooves clacked against the smooth ground as he crept into the cave, the sound echoing around him in a way that was uncomfortably loud. He was only just able to spot a slight movement against the back wall before something clicked and the cave was illuminated by the orange glow of a shroomlight. 

Techno’s eyes widened. Sitting at the back of the cave was a small piglin, it’s hand on a lever, its head tilted curiously at him. The cave itself wasn’t at all the natural, untouched formation he’d assumed it to be. Its floor and walls had both been smoothed off, and various items and tools were scattered throughout it. A small bed of fungi was nestled in the corner, and on it lay a baby hoglin. The light came from a shroomlight that had, somehow, previously been hidden behind a barrier of rock.

The piglin stood, its eyes alight with something Techno couldn’t decipher and began walking across the cave, towards him.

Techno leapt back, his eyes wide. The other piglins he’d passed had all been content to ignore him, to continue with what they’d been doing. But he’d intruded on what he assumed was this one’s home, and now it seemed intent on its approach. He reached to his waist and was once again reminded of the fact that he didn’t have a sword. _Fuck_ , he didn’t have a sword. 

He continued backing away, out of the cave, back into the warped forest, until he felt his back hit a warped tree, effectively stopping his retreat. He could do nothing but drop into a fighting position as the monster drew closer.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

The piglin stood over him, reached out a hand, and Techno flinched back slightly. Suddenly, he saw a very different piglin reaching down, this one with a blade in hand, this one standing over a Techno who lay paralysed, helpless, unable to do anything but _watch_ as his death grew nearer and nearer and—

Techno blinked, and the memory faded. This time was different. This time, he wasn’t helpless. This time, he’d fight it off, kill the piglin, escape with his life. 

This time, the piglin’s hand was empty and it was smiling.

_Wait, what?_

“Hi!” it said, and the snorts and snarls it spoke in somehow managed to sound high-pitched and bubbly. “I’m Tubbo! What’s your name?”

_What the fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piglin Tubbo, what will he do?
> 
> MEGARONII DID MORE EPIC [FANART](https://twitter.com/_megaronii_/status/1327771988849537024?s=20)!!! PLEASE CHECK IT OUT AND GIVE HER SOME LOVE!!!!  
> SILVEN DID A FUCKING AWESOME DESIGN FOR [PIGLIN TUBBO](https://twitter.com/silvenpup/status/1355866377689595910?s=21)!! IT’S ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE


	4. Chapter Four

Techno was frozen, shock and confusion warring within him as the adrenaline that had been coursing through his system waned.

As the piglin (Tubbo?) had advanced on him, he’d been expecting a lot of things, but this… this certainly wasn’t one of them. It didn’t make sense. Nothing was making sense. It was giving Techno a headache.

The piglin’s eyes were bright with jubilance and curiosity as it looked at Techno, its hand outstretched, its smile wide, its posture open and trusting. It was armourless and weaponless and wore clothing made not of hoglin leather, but instead woven of the cyan vegetation of the warped forest. 

The piglin’s grin faltered slightly as Techno remained still, doing nothing but stare up at it. It retracted its hand hesitantly, as though holding out hope that Techno would grab onto it, before finally letting the arm drop to its side with a sigh.

“Are you ok?” was its next question. As though it _cared_. As though it were something more than one of the monsters that Techno had been fighting for as long as he could remember.

(He ignored the voice that whispered that he was one of those monsters, too.)

Techno grit his teeth and stepped forward, shoving past the piglin. The cave he’d found had been inhabited already, so he’d just find a new one.

“Hey, wait!” it called out, running to keep up with Techno. “You didn’t even tell me your name!”

“Fuck off,” Techno snarled, and then stopped. He’d just spoken. He’d spoken and the words had instinctively come out in piglin tongue. It had felt strange, the primitive dialect rumbling through his throat and mouth, but it had also, in some strange way, felt natural.

The piglin grinned. “Oh, so that’s your name? ‘Fuck off?’” Techno turned and levelled it with a scorching glare. It raised its hands in mock-surrender. “Ok, ok. Let’s start again. I’m Tubbo, what’s your name?”

Techno considered his options for a moment. On the one hand, this piglin was, well, a _piglin_ , and seemed to be an annoying little shit. On the other hand, if he told it his name, it might leave him alone.

“Techno,” he said eventually.

Tubbo screwed up his face. “Techno? That’s such a weird name, though!”

“At least it’s not Tubbo.”

“Hey! You can’t just say stuff like that. What if it had hurt my feelings?”

Techno scowled, making a sharp turn and speeding up in an attempt to shake off the gnat following him. “Then good.”

Tubbo trotted after him, unperturbed by the change in direction. “Oi!” he shouted, no real heat in his tone. “That wasn’t necessary.”

Techno didn’t even grace that with a reply.

After a few beats of silence Tubbo spoke up again. “What are you even doing here? You’re from the Anchor Bastion, right? You guys never come out here.”

Techno shot him a quizzical glance. “I’m from the what?”

Tubbo squinted confusedly at him. “...the Anchor Bastion.” He gestured at… something… on Techno. “That’s their insignia, right? How do you not…” his eyes widened. “Wait, are you a new cycle? How are you out here, then? Don’t you have to get added to the register?”

“I’m understanding the words you’re saying but not what any of them mean.”

“Oh, whatever. I just want to know what you’re doing!”

“Currently, getting away from a certain piglin is pretty high on my priorities.”

Tubbo was silent for a moment as he glanced around. “But we’re the only two piglins here…?”

Techno shut his eyes with a groan. He wasn’t religious, but this piglin was making him want to pray to a god for strength. “Just go back to your cave, please.”

“But you’re _interesting_ ,” Tubbo whined.

“Go run off to your other piglin friends.”

At that, Tubbo was silent. Techno looked back at him and saw that he was staring at him, almost sadly.

“...you don’t have any friends.”

“That’s not true! I have you!”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

A few minutes of silence passed before Tubbo, seemingly unable to remain quiet, said, “So, why are you here?”

Techno clenched his jaw. Man, did he wish he had a sword right now.

“Ooh, do you want me to guess?” Tubbo said after Techno’s silence stretched on for a bit too long. “Maybe you were running away from something! Are there humans chasing you? Or zombies? Or zoglins? Or maybe, uh… hmm. I’m not sure what else could be chasing you. Oh! Was it—”

Techno rounded on Tubbo. “I _will_ kill you if you don’t shut up,” he snarled.

The piglin blinked, unfazed. “You don’t have a weapon, though.”

“There are plenty of other ways to die.”

Tubbo considered him for a moment. “You do have a point there,” he eventually conceded. He glanced at the lava pool they were making their way around, back at Techno, then took a step away from the edge. “You wouldn’t _actually_ kill me though, would you? We’re pretty much best friends!”

Techno scoffed. “I literally despise you with every inch of my body,” he said dryly.

“No you don’t, we’re best friends.”

Techno glanced back at him. “Do you want to try me?”

“I, uh, I think I’d rather not.”

Techno rolled his eyes and turned away. “So you’ll leave me alone now?”

“Nope!”

Techno sighed. 

The next half-hour passed in roughly the same fashion, Techno growing more and more frustrated as the irritating piglin just _refused_ to leave him alone. It was strange, though, the way Tubbo acted. As annoying as he was proving to be, he was also so animated and lively, so _human_ in his mannerisms. And for Techno, who had only ever seen piglins as monstrous beasts… it was proving to be a reality check, to say the least. That didn’t mean he liked the little bastard, though.

As Techno stepped passed a huge fungus and emerged from the warped forest to see a soul sand valley stretching out beyond him, he realised where his wandering feet had led him. He hadn’t been consciously doing it, but he’d been walking back to the basion he’d woken up in.

“Oh,” Tubbo said, staring at the structure. “So you _are_ from the Anchor Bastion.”

“I still have no idea what that is.”

“It’s just— ah, nevermind. Are you going back there, then?”

Techno glanced at the bastion and then back at the piglin that had attached itself to him. He’d been meaning to find a cave somewhere — alone, secluded — to work out his situation and plan his next step. But now he was calmer, now he had a more level head.

He thought of the fear he’d felt as Tubbo had originally advanced on him, unarmed and armourless, before he’d realised how much of a dork the piglin was. He thought of the times he’d instinctively reached for a sword only to realise it wasn’t there. He thought of how little he knew of piglins, of the species he had somehow become. 

He realised that he needed gear and information, and to learn how to survive as a piglin in the nether. Because no matter how much it grated on him to admit, this _was_ the situation he’d been thrown into. And he realised that the easiest, perhaps the _only_ way to do those things would be to return to the bastion he’d originally fled from.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “I think I am.”

Tubbo deflated slightly. “Oh,” he said, the usual excitement of his tone all but gone.

Techno glanced at the piglin. His ears were drooping, his expression dejected. Techno hated to admit it, but he felt a bit bad. “What is it?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not very… welcome there. They don’t appreciate my tendency to _not_ fight.” Tubbo raised his hands and made air quotes. “‘A piglin who’d rather frolic in the forests and valleys than fight in our war had no place here,’” he quoted with a self-deprecating laugh. “I just don’t see the point of it all, y’know? The fighting, the war... I just wish there could be peace.”

“Ah,” Techno said eloquently, unsure as to what an appropriate response would be. “Well, I sort of need to go there. Sorry, I guess?”

“Oh no, it’s fine! It’s ok!” Tubbo was silent for a moment before he said, quietly, “Will you visit, though?”

Techno blinked. Damn. He felt guilty now. “Yeah I, uh, I’ll visit,” he said, lacking the heart to refuse.

Tubbo grinned. “Great! Thanks!” 

“Uh, it’s no problem?”

Tubbo nodded eagerly and waved at Techno as he turned away from the piglin. As he began his trek across the soul sand valley, he heard Tubbo shout out, “Techno is still a weird name, though!”

Techno rolled his eyes, raised his hand, and extended his middle finger.

Tubbo’s laughter followed him the rest of the way to the bastion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo new chapter. What am I doing with the world building? I honestly don’t know myself.


	5. Chapter Five

Techno crept into the bastion — the Anchor Bastion, as Tubbo had called it — through the same doorway he’d exited it from. Ahead of him stretched the rough netherrack corridor, its wall dotted with cave entrances, and to his right was the hallway of polished blackstone. 

Techno glanced around cautiously, keeping an eye out for any piglins that might question him or his intentions. Strangely enough, both hallways seemed absent of any other piglins. He turned right, taking the blackstone corridor this time, and spared a moment to think about the odd little piglin he’d met.

Tubbo had… genuinely been pretty nice. Sure, he’d been annoying at first. And at the end, too. But he’d been open and kind, and the normality of their interaction helped Techno calm from the panicked state he’d been in since he’d made the realisation that he’d woken as a piglin. And, as vehemently as Techno would deny it, just before they’d parted ways, he’d actually begun to find himself amused by the piglin’s antics. Tubbo had reminded him of Tommy, in a quieter, more persistent sort of way.

Grudging as it may be, he liked the little (though Techno himself hadn’t been much taller than him) piglin and actually did intend to make good on his promise to return to the warped forest and visit him.

The juxtaposition of the way Tubbo had acted compared to what Techno knew of piglins wasn’t at all lost on him. The contrast was so stark it was almost blinding — the cheerful, bubbly being he’d met versus the vicious, bloodthirsty monsters he’d been fighting for years. 

But, Techno reasoned, Tubbo must be an outlier. After all, he was an outcast from the rest of society. The piglin had said it himself — his aversion to war had been what  _ created _ the discord between him and his kin. Surely the other piglins were the same as what Techno had always known. Surely.

He was drawn from his thoughts as he came to another crossroads and confronted with another decidsion — continue down the hallway or enter the room that branched off to the left. A quick peek into the room showed it to be an armoury of sorts, empty of any other piglins but full of wickedly sharp golden weapons and some half-enchanted sets of armour. 

The fact that the gear was all made of the buttery metal was disappointing, but Techno wasn’t one to look a gift horse in its mouth. He spared one more glance around to make sure the coast was clear before stepping into the room.

Techno hesitated over which pieces to take, unsure whether to prioritise protection and sharpness or unbreaking. It was difficult enough to determine which enchantments the armour and weapons had without having crafted them himself, but not actually knowing what it was that he  _ wanted  _ just made the choice so much harder.

Techno eventually settled on picking out pieces reinforced with unbreaking enchantments, given the gear was made of gold. He reached up and grabbed a chestplate, pulling it down from its rack, unbuckling its leather bindings and trying to put it on.

It was about five sizes too big for him.

Techno stared uncomprehendingly down at the chestpate that fell to his knees. 

What?

He glanced up at the rest of the gear, realising, quite suddenly, how much he was dwarfed by it.

Suddenly, the feelings he’d gotten as he’d wandered through the warped forest — of everything being so much larger than him made sense. He’d disregarded it at the time, had had far more pressing matters on his mind, but now he realised, and it felt like a slap in the face.

He was a fucking child.

And just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, too.

Techno pulled the too-large chestplate off and threw it across the room with a scowl. Fucking armoury, for not having the gear he needed. Fucking piglins, for everything they’d done. Fucking life, for throwing him into this situation in the first place.

The anger he felt rose in a sharp, irrational wave, and for a moment Techno wanted to scream, to rage, to curse the universe for what it was doing to him. But then it fell back just as quickly, like the tide, and left him standing tiredly, feeling empty and hopeless, in the useless armoury.

Techno let out a sigh, dropping his head into his hooved hands and giving himself a moment to recuperate. He wasn’t okay. He was so not okay.

Techno raised his head and scanned the armoury one more time, eventually settling on grabbing a dagger that was about the length of his torso — him being a baby piglin and all. He had no idea how he’d managed to miss the the glaringly obvious fact — it should’ve been one of the first things he’d realised — but now that he’d realised it, it was impossible to ignore how huge everything around him seemed.

After finding a suitable sheath for his new dagger and hooking it to his leather belt, Techno made his way out of the armoury. His foray hadn’t been totally useless, at least.

He continued down the corridor, intent on finding gear more suited to a being of his current stature.

As he made his way through the bastion, he began crossing paths with more and more piglins. They were bustling around busily, carrying plates of food and pelts of hoglin leather. Techno even spotted a group of them carrying what looked to be some sort of banquet table, made of crimson wood. They paid him little mind as he passed which was rather strange considering the fact that he was, for all appearances, a literal child. But Techno wasn’t complaining, would hate if the piglins did anything else, and so he returned the courtesy.

The bastion seemed to be a sprawling spiderweb of hallways and rooms. Techno made sure to remember the way to the exit, just in case he needed to flee for whatever reason, but other than that knew nothing of the fortress’ layout. What he hoped to find through his aimless wandering was a suit of armour that actually fit him, so he’d feel less weak and exposed, but he had no idea where he’d find such a thing.

The easiest thing to do would be ask for help, but the instinctive wariness Techno felt around piglins still hadn’t worn off. Asking one of them for help was the last thing on his agenda — in fact, his hand was clenched around the hilt of his golden dagger in preparation to jump into combat at any time.

He rounded a corner and felt his eyes widen as a towering archway came into view before him. A staircase rose behind it, too high for Techno to see what was in the room. He started towards it without much thought, far too curious about its contents to do anything else.

Techno ascended the stairs. What was in room was something he never would’ve been able to predict.

It was huge and grand, a marvel of architecture, built from ceiling to floor with gilded blackstone and golden blocks, and opening out to a vast soul sand valley — an extension of the one Techno had crossed to get to the warped forest. Rows of pedestals lined the floor, and upon each of them rested a bloodied corpse. Piglins milled about, kneeling by the pedestals, holding roots and fungus and laying them by the bodies. 

They were mourning.

Techno stared out at the scene before him in disbelief — the idea of piglins, of all things, taking the time to grieve for their dead seeming so outlandish that he had to take a moment to comprehend it.

On the left side of the room, where he’d entered from, sat about a dozen quartz pedestals, each one supporting the body of a dead piglin. In the centre was a large gap — a walkway, of sorts — that split it in two. On the other side were more pedestals, these ones made of nether bricks, that housed even more bodies. At the very edge of the room was a larger stand, sitting on a raised platform, the nether bricks gilded with shining gold, the body lying on it surrounded by cyan and crimson vegetation — some piglin general, Techno assumed. There were far fewer piglins on that side of the room.

Techno began making his way across the room, averting his gaze from the grieving piglins as he passed. He knew what it was like to mourn, and had the decency to offer these piglins the respect he’d usually withhold from them.

As he crossed the room, he was struck quite suddenly by the stark difference between each side. Techno stopped still, his head swivelling between the room’s two ends, confusion and disbelief warring within him. Piglin bodies rested on the quartz. On the nether bricks, however, lay human bodies. 

Techno blinked.

_ Huh? _

That explained why there were so few mourners on this side. What it didn’t explain, however, was why the  _ fuck  _ piglins cared enough to gather and pay respect to fallen humans.

The fact that there were only about a dozen piglin bodies also didn’t make sense. Techno remembered many more piglins falling during the battle — at least six of the creatures had fallen to his blade alone, and he hadn’t been the only fighter.

As Techno walked slowly through the rows of human corpses, taking note of the fact that they lay with their armour on and their weapons across their chests, he felt grief welling up in his chest. He’d known these men, trained some of them, even, and seeing them here pained him to no ends.

The price of war was high.

Techno ignored the odd looks he must’ve been getting from the other piglins in favour of paying respects to each of his fallen comrades. They deserved far better than this, than to have their bodies, their souls, trapped eternally in this hellish dimension. 

As he passed the final body, he turned towards the last, grander pedestal. He couldn’t deny that he was curious to find out which human the piglins held in such high regard to believe that they deserved a special respect to be paid to them.

As he ascended the platform and saw who it was that lay on the pedestal, Techno froze.

He gazed down at the lifeless body before him in shock, his breath caught in his throat, his vision tunneling in on it. The rest of the world seemed to fall away as his brain refused to come to terms the information his eyes were sending it.

This couldn’t be right.

All the other bodies in the room, and he hadn’t even considered it.

He felt bile rise up his throat.

There was something so unshakably  _ wrong  _ about staring into the glassy eyes of your own corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Techno doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing and neither do I

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: 18/12/20  
> Taking a temporary break from this to work on another mcyt fic. It shouldn’t take me too long to finish. Linked [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099206) if you wanna check it out!
> 
> UPDATE: 29/01/21  
> Okay, so the other fic is taking a lot longer than I thought it was, and I have plans to make it into a series. Due to that, it will take far longer than I thought to get back to this fic. As of now, however, I still have every intention to finish this one!
> 
> Join the [discord server](https://discord.gg/p7hCE9wxKP). You know you want to.
> 
> Here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cursewormm) if you wanna drop me a follow
> 
> Fanart collection (I link it in AN of the relevant chapters too):  
> From chapter [one](https://twitter.com/_megaronii_/status/1325205789917675520?s=20), by Meg, Techno protecting Tommy  
> From chapter [two](https://twitter.com/_megaronii_/status/1327771988849537024?s=20), by Meg, Techno after waking  
> From chapter [two](https://twitter.com/silvenpup/status/1355866377689595910?s=21), by Silven, Piglin Tubbo design


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